


VIP

by narneeah



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic, the foxhole court
Genre: Hurt Neil Josten, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 23:40:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14092257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narneeah/pseuds/narneeah
Summary: The night that the public discovers Andrew and Neil are a thing is a trainwreck.





	VIP

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, let's be real this is a mess. This was supposed to be a short little story and ended up nearly thirteen pages, oops. But I missed my boys and so here we are.

Andrew watched the jumbotron from the VIP box as Neil passed the ball to the other striker and flew down the court. Andrew’s pro team had been eliminated from the championship early and they had a few weeks off to let the season end before they had to start all over again, so Andrew was spending his time off at Neil’s. Mostly he sat around, read, and smoked until Neil got home from practice, but today Neil was playing in the semi-finals. He had asked if Andrew was going to be there and Andrew hadn’t said anything, just taken another drag from his cigarette and flicked an impassive look at him. Neil had accepted that, had nodded like that was the answer he had expected. Andrew hadn’t intended to come, he had run out of ice cream and was driving to get more when he found himself at the stadium. He’d sat in the parking lot with the windows up listening to the music thumping from inside the stadium, rattling the change in his cup holder, debating whether or not to go in. It wasn’t until the timbre of the commentator's voice blared over the speakers calling out names, numbers, and positions that Andrew had kicked open his door and slammed it shut behind him, snatching the VIP pass Neil had left him from his rearview mirror on his way out. 

The VIP box was an exquisite thing, with padded chairs, a buffet, air conditioning, and a bar it was everything a sports fan could ask for. Except for the fact that it had to be shared with all of the rosters family members. There were children playing on the floor and everyone was laughing with each other. Andrew had only come to a handful of Neil’s events but the spouses of the other teammates knew not to bother trying to be polite to Andrew. He made his way quietly into the room and went straight to the bar. 

“Well, well,” the barista said spinning a shaker in her hand and pouring out a martini, “Look who decided to show up.” Her name was Lindsay, she was tall and lethal with long blonde hair and pitch black eyes. She often stole kisses with the married men on the team and sometimes the women. She was very pretty and charmed anyone that came within a hundred yards of her. 

Andrew didn’t mind her too much. 

“Whiskey?” She asked and Andrew nodded. “Your boy’s on his game tonight, he’s already scored.” 

Andrew looked at one of the many flat screens lining the walls, ESPN was broadcasting the game and a slow-motion replay of Neil scoring the first goal of the night was playing. 

Lindsay finished pouring his drink and slid it over, she propped her elbows up on the counter and looked at the TV showing live footage again. “He better watch it though, he keeps mouthing off to Molina. That bastard will run his ass over.” 

Molina was the backliner for the Florida Falcons and Neil’s mark for the night. Molina was known for being a wildcard, or more often than not a redcard. He was a brutal opponent and didn’t give two shits if what he did was within guidelines. With domestic abuse charges and accounts of discrimination littering his record, it was a wonder he was even still allowed to play in the league. Neil was going to give Molina hell not only because he was an opponent but because he was a grade-A asshole. 

“Molina has to catch him first,” Andrew said and raised his eyebrows at Lindsay who grinned. He snagged his drink and sat down near the window to watch the game.  

It was an interesting one, they were two of the best teams in the nation and neither was going to give ground without a fight, which meant it was also a dirty game. There had already been three red cards between both teams and numerous yellow cards. It was a miracle none of them were Neil’s, he had been starting shit with Molina all night. He tripped him any chance he got and every time the referee turned his back Neil turned towards Molina and said something, probably something provocative. Andrew was vaguely shocked that Molina hadn’t thrown a punch yet .

The Colts were down one point and with only fifteen minutes left in the second half Neil was fighting for a goal. Andrew watched his uniform streak across the court, only a spot of blue from this high up in the stands. The other striker, Hernandez, managed to lob the ball to Neil just before being plowed over. Neil caught the ball and took off down the court, Molina in yellow trailing him the whole way. Neil took ten steps and then lobbed the ball back to Hernandez who had managed to find his feet again. Andrew watched Neil slow almost imperceptibly, scanning the court for his best move, watching to see if Hernandez caught the pass. Then Andrew saw Molina. He had thrown his racket to the side and was running at Neil at full speed, all of the taunting Neil had done was about to hit him full force. Andrew went still and watched the backliner slam into Neil with enough force to send them both sprawling. They hit the ground just as the other striker caught the ball and the camera swiveled away from Neil as the crowd started screaming with joy. Andrew stood up and looked down towards the court but couldn’t make out anything from so high up, he couldn’t quite crush the uneasy feeling rising in his chest. His eyes were still roaming over the smudged court walls when the room went unnaturally quiet. His eyes finally landed on a crumpled blue figure when someone gasped. Then like a chain reaction the whole room was filled with the sound of people muttering into their hands. It was the low buzzing of a group of people witnessing a tragedy, the sort of noise that made your blood spike with anxious dread. 

Andrew looked back at the big screen and saw Neil, he was half sitting, clutching his thigh. Andrew felt something jump in his chest at the sight. The lower half of Neil’s leg was twisted in a gruesome direction, his knee a horrific knot. He had his helmet off and Andrew watched him double over, screaming so hard his face had turned red. Everyone in the room turned to look at Andrew. 

Andrew vaguely registered that he was moving, that he was opening the door and making his way down the stairs. He could smell the popcorn from the concession stand as he passed, the sound of people mumbling through their fingers as they watched the tv screens from the waiting lines. 

“Neil Josten, number ten, seems to be injured,” the commentator said and Andrew kept his pace steady as he made his way to the clubhouse entrance.  

Andrew pulled the VIP pass out of his pocket as he came to the locker room doors. A security guard stepped in front of him before he reached it. 

“No one goes in unless they’re a player, staff, or family.” 

Andrew flipped the VIP pass over so that the red side showed, the side that family members had. The guard looked startled then seemed to realize who Andrew was and opened the door for him, ushering him into a hallway that was eerily empty. Andrew’s heavy boots echoed in the silence as he passed the showers, the locker room, and the offices. He hopped up the steps to the court doors and shoved them open. 

Players had their hands on their heads and others looked like they were going to be sick. Some of them were even praying. Trainers were frantically running around, radios pulled out trying to get a stretcher. Andrew didn’t slow for any of it, pushing passed bodies that got in his way until he reached the court. 

A referee held out a hand to stop him from opening it and gave him a disbelieving look, “Now, just who the hell do you think you are?” 

Andrew turned his head and glared at him, the referee started as he recognized him and he swung the door open. The players who had been playing were standing at the opposite end of the court, helmets and gloves off, worry written on all of their faces. Everyone except Molina who stood, front and center, grinning. There was a small huddle of staff members where Neil had fallen and Andrew marched over to them and began shoving them aside. 

“Hey!” One of them said shrilly and got everyone’s attention, Josh White, the manager of the team, was standing in the middle of the huddle and turned at the sound. His eyes found Andrew’s and he stared in surprise for a moment before snapping his fingers. 

“Let him through!” He said, and the sea of blue shirts parted around Andrew. He didn’t waste time thanking him just went straight over to where a trainer was leaned over Neil with a towel, muttering in his ear. Andrew grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and hauled him away, the trainer started to protest but Andrew shoved him away for Josh to deal with. 

Andrew looked down at Neil lying on his back, held down by other trainers as he struggled to sit up. His red hair was plastered to his head and his eyes were wide and glassy, his mind clearly somewhere outside of the stadium. He didn’t notice Andrew, didn’t seem to notice anything but . . . 

“My leg,” He croaked and struggled against the hands holding him. Andrew could guess what was going through his head right now. He knew that this was something out of his worst nightmares. He had been able to run from his father and every other bad thing that had come for him, and even though he wasn’t trying to run from anyone anymore, being unable to escape would always be one of his greatest fears. Not to mention that exy was literally keeping him alive. Andrew knew how quickly the managers would cut him if his injury had complications or took too long to heal.  Ichirou would show no mercy if Neil couldn’t come back from this, he would kill him in the blink of an eye if Neil couldn’t pay his dues. 

Andrew sunk down to his knees above Neil’s head and unlocked his jaw long enough to growl at the trainers, “Let go of him.” 

They all looked up at him and recoiled when they saw him. With his restraints gone Neil struggled into a sitting position and looked down at his mangled leg. Neil’s hands started to reach but Andrew leaned forward and grabbed his wrists, pulling them against Neil’s chest. Andrew wrapped his arms around Neil and tugged him against his chest. Trying to ground him and pull him out of his head.  He was stiff as a board against Andrew, his whole body in shock. Losing the ability to walk and to run was worse than chopping off an arm. 

Andrew shook him, “Neil,” he said. Neil didn’t even flinch, just kept staring wide-eyed at his leg.

“My knee,” he said and Andrew felt him start to shake. 

Andrew clenched his teeth and squeezed Neil tighter, “Look at me, Junkie.” 

And he did, Neil turned his wide blank eyes towards Andrew and his mouth twitched, “Andrew.” His eyes focused on Andrew for only a second before they drifted back to his knee. “Andrew, my leg.” 

“Shut up and look at me.” 

Neil turned his head towards him but kept his eyes on his knee, horror spread across his face and twisted his mouth into a jagged line. “Andrew, my leg,” he said again, his voice rougher, the reality of it setting in. His face jerked and Andrew felt Neil sinking further back against him, trying to shy away from his own body. He finally squeezed his eyes shut against the sight of his leg and turned his head against Andrew’s shoulder. Andrew could feel his sweaty hair against his face and his neck, could feel Neil’s shallow panicked breathe and his heart hammering in his wrists. The tension ran out of his body and he slumped against Andrew. 

“Andrew, my fucking leg,” he sounded more like himself now, panic and pain cracking his voice, “He’s going to kill me.” 

Andrew loosened his grip but didn’t let go, “Ichirou isn’t going to touch you.”

Neil drew his head back and looked at Andrew in confusion, “I was talking about Kevin.” 

Andrew stared at Neil and Neil stared back. Then Neil gave an exhausted smile and let his head fall back against Andrew’s shoulder. Andrew shook his head and turned his head so that his mouth was close to Neil’s ear. 

“I hate you.” 

Neil glanced down at his knee and looked quickly away, “I thought you weren’t coming.” 

The sound of wheels squeaking on the court caught Andrew’s attention and he turned to see a bright orange stretcher being pushed onto the court. “Your ride’s here.” 

“Don’t leave,” Neil pulled his head away to look at the stretcher. His whole body was quivering. 

“Okay,” Andrew said as the paramedics stopped the stretcher beside them and lowered it to the floor. 

A male paramedic grabbed a bag from off the stretcher and knelt beside Neil. “Hello Neil, my name is Cal. I’m going to be stabilizing you and prepping you for transport. I’m going to ask you a few questions and do a basic exam and then I’m going to splint your leg and then get you on the stretcher and into an ambulance.” He spoke calmly and professionally as he pulled on a pair of blue latex gloves. They snapped against each of his wrists and the sound made Andrew’s blood boil, too many emergency room visits with uncomfortable circumstances for the sound to bring anything but discomfort. He forced the feeling away as the paramedic began his exam. 

“First things first, do you have any pain anywhere other than the leg, specifically in the neck or back area?” He asked as he pulled out a complicated looking black splint and began to undo the straps.

“No,” Neil said. 

“Great, I’m going to check your lower leg for a pulse to confirm that you haven’t ruptured any arteries. I’m going to have to remove your shoe. Tell me to stop if it pulls, okay?” The paramedic waited for Neil to reply and when he nodded the paramedic unknotted Neil’s court shoe and loosened the laces enough to pull the shoe off without it pulling his leg. Cal carefully slid the heel of the shoe off Neil’s foot and then pulled it the rest of the way off. He wrapped his hand around the bottom of Neil’s foot and pressed two fingers against either side of his ankle. Neil stiffened just a little against Andrew as they waited for Cal to say something. 

Cal nodded his head and pulled his hand away with a smile, “Alright, got a strong pulse so that’s a plus. The splint we have is a straight splint so I’m going to move your leg just a small amount to the left so that we can get this on and get you to the hospital.” Neil sucked in a breathe. “This is going to cause you some pain, but I’m not moving it enough to shift the position of the bones. If it becomes too much tell me to stop.” Cal gave Neil a weighted look. “Okay?” 

Andrew heard Neil swallow hard and felt the slight up and down of his head when he nodded. “Okay,” he said quietly. 

Cal kept his eyes on Neil’s face and then flicked his eyes up to Andrew’s. He raised his eyebrows in a silent question. ‘ _ Ready? _ ’, Andrew nodded and Cal looked back down at Neil. He took a deep breath and shuffled forward on his knees. 

“Ready, Neil?” He asked.

Neil closed his eyes and his hand fisted into the sleeve of Andrew’s hoodie, “Yes.” Andrew shifted a little closer, fixed his grip on Neil, and Neil pushed his head against his shoulder. 

“Here we go,” Cal said and carefully but firmly gripped Neil’s leg and moved it just a few inches to the left. Neil’s whole body curved against Andrew and he let out a hoarse cry through his teeth. Andrew pressed his chin into Neil’s shoulder, holding him as still as he could. He hated this. 

Cal took his hands off of Neil’s leg and looked up at them, “That’s it. You doing okay?” He reached behind him for the splint and started slipping it on Neil’s leg. 

Through the material of his sweatshirt Andrew could feel Neil’s heart beating in his chest, and his uneven breathe pushed his ribs into Andrew’s stomach. “I’m okay,” Neil’s voice cracked and fried but his heart was already starting to slow.  

Cal’s hands fastened the splint on with practiced ease and when he was done he sat back on his heels. “Now that you’ve been stabilized we’re going to put you on the stretcher, I need you to lay flat on your back so we can get you on.” 

Andrew’s hand tightened briefly on Neil before he pulled away and watched him lay back on the court. Neil grimaced as the paramedics lifted him onto the stretcher.

It made Andrew nauseous to watch so many people touching Neil, made him nauseous to think that this could happen to him. He knew that there was nothing he could do and that this was mandatory procedure. This wasn’t something he could do for Neil himself. Neil needed doctors, was probably going to have to have a surgeon, but the thought of Neil being at the mercy of so many other people made Andrew feel sick to his stomach. There was nothing he could do, and that was a hard pill to swallow. 

The paramedics strapped Neil in and hoisted the stretcher back up to full height and began to roll him towards the door. Andrew followed closely enough that Neil could still see him but not so close that he was in the way. At the top of the stairs, Andrew caught Cal’s arm. “Do not let the ambulance leave without me.” 

Cal glanced down at Andrew’s hand on his arm and nodded, “I can’t stall them for long so make it quick.” 

Andrew ignored Neil calling for him and turned towards the group of players standing off to the side in yellow. The grin Molina wore had been replaced by a sneer, he stepped forward to meet Andrew. 

“The fuck are you doing here Minyard?” He said with disgust. He opened his mouth to say something else but Andrew punched him in the mouth. And then he punched him again. He hit him hard enough that Molina keeled over, his teeth scattered across the court and his blood coated Andrew’s knuckles. He glanced over at Molina’s teammates and they watched wide-eyed as Andrew stepped towards them. 

“Anyone else?” He asked. 

A dark-haired girl with even darker skin stepped forward and looked down at Molina with disgust. “You won’t hear any of us complaining we hate him as much as everyone else.” 

With that Andrew turned away and made his way to the exit. He stepped through the court doors and onto the outer court and was blinded by the flashing of cameras. ‘Andrew do you have anything to say?’, ‘What are you to Neil?’, ‘Smile.’ The journalists were all yelling around him as he made his way to the door and finally through into the silent locker room. He grabbed a towel from someone's locker and wiped the blood from his hand before throwing the towel to the floor. Andrew pushed through the exit and nearly collided with Cal.

Cal gave him a look and shook his head, “Cutting it mighty close pal. Get in.” 

Andrew climbed into the back of the ambulance with Neil and one paramedic and Cal shut the doors behind him. The driver’s side door opened and Cal hopped in and got them moving. 

“Andrew,” Neil said from the stretcher and Andrew looked at him for the first time since getting in the ambulance. His face was white with pain, but his eyes were clear. They raked up and down Andrew and caught on his bruising hand. “What did you do?” He asked him in Russian. 

Andrew shrugged, “Molina looked like he could use a few less teeth.” 

Neil shook his head but smiled tiredly, “You idiot, they could kick you out for that.” 

“It’s really nice that you guys are still so close after not playing together for years,” a blonde paramedic interrupted smacking on a piece of cinnamon gum so loudly it made Andrew want to rip his tongue out. “You guys best friends or something? I thought you were, like, enemies? Ya’ know that whole Minyard-Josten rivalry thing and all?” 

Neil gave Andrew a sour look and rolled his eyes. Andrew watched the paramedic smack his gum. The paramedic, oblivious, kept talking. “There was some weird shit going around for a while about you guys being gay,” he scoffed. “The stuff people say to get attention, I always believed you guys hated each other way more than I ever believed you were . . . together. Or whatever gay people call it. But it’s nice that you guys are friends after all, I guess.” 

Neil curled his lip at him and strained against the velcro holding him in place, “We aren’t friends you fucking idiot.” 

The paramedic stopped smacking with his mouth wide open, clearly taken aback by Neil’s sudden hostility. His surprise was quickly replaced with confusion, “Well, then . . . “ his eyes flickered towards Andrew’s steady gaze, “What is he doing here?” 

The paramedic shrunk back a little against the ambulance wall as Andrew drew a hand behind him into his back pocket. 

“Woah!” The paramedic said panicked, “Take it easy man!” Clearly, he had heard the rumors of Andrew’s volatile behavior. Andrew took pride in that. It wasn’t a knife or any weapon that he pulled out of his pocket, but a simple game day pass attached to a lanyard with orange paw prints on it. 

The paramedic looked down at the pass and blinked. “What?” He said stupidly. 

“It’s alright,” Andrew said, “I’m just showing you why I’m here.” He flipped the pass over and exposed the red VIP side. 

“Uhm, only family is allowed to have access passes. I don’t know who you fucked up to get that but it’s against clubhouse policy.” The paramedic immediately took up a haughty air and pulled out a radio. “I’m going to have to call security.” 

“Oh don’t make any more of an idiot out of yourself,” Neil said from the stretcher, “He didn’t fuck anyone up to get the pass he’s legally my family.” 

The paramedic looked bewildered, “ _ What? _ Are you guys like brothers or something?” 

Neil looked at the paramedic with disbelief before throwing his head back and howling with laughter. “You - are the - biggest - _ idiot. _ ” Neil said between peals of laughter. 

Neil finally pulled himself together enough to say, “He is not my enemy. He is not my boyfriend. He is _ definitely _ not my brother. I will give it to you though,” Neil said as he reached into the neckline of his jersey to hook the chain of his necklace around his finger, “He is my best friend.” And with that Neil popped his necklace out of his jersey. 

The paramedic stared at the necklace uncomprehendingly. “So,” he said slowly and his eyes migrated over to Andrew, “You’re his . . ?“ 

Andrew reached into the neckline of his sweatshirt and plucked out his own necklace, letting the ring on the end bounce against his chest. Andrew and Neil had agreed on simple wedding bands, plain silver, something subtle. They wore them on necklaces because it was easier to keep up with, they didn’t have to worry about taking them on and off and finding somewhere to keep them every time they had to wear exy gloves. 

Andrew leaned forward and smiled. “I’m his VIP.” 

  
  


***

  
  


It was all over the news by the next morning. ‘Andrew Minyard and Neil Josten, from Enemies to Lovers.’ ‘Andrew Minyard and Neil Josten the Gay Icons We Didn’t Know We Needed.’ ‘An Exy Disgrace.’ ‘An Exy Love Story.’ ‘Andrew Josten or Neil Minyard?’ 

Neil lay in his hospital bed flipping through the articles and fuming. He was pissed because he was going to miss the championship game. He was pissed because now he and Andrew were going to have to deal with the paparazzi and their bullshit. He was pissed because his leg was fucking broken. He was really pissed that Aaron Minyard was the doctor standing at the foot of his bed checking boxes on his release sheet. 

Aaron passed the clipboard to the nurse beside him, “I’m prescribing some painkillers and an antibiotic to ensure it doesn’t get infected. Go ahead and start the paperwork so they can get out of here.” The nurse nodded and walked out of the room, her white shoes squeaking a little on the floor. 

“I’m shocked, Doctor,” Neil said bitterly, “Prescribing me an antibiotic to make sure I don’t get an infection? It almost sounds like you don’t want me to die.” 

Aaron stuffed his hands into the pockets of his white coat and turned his head away to sniff in disdain, “Believe me,” he said, “I’d let you if I knew it wouldn’t show on my record.” 

Neil scoffed and Aaron smiled just a little, it had taken them a long time to become okay with one another, but somehow, sometime, it had happened. Neil thought it had more to do with the fact that Aaron had finally settled into his own routine. For so long he had been controlled and harnessed by others. First his mother, then Andrew and his promise, then signing to play with the Foxes. Now, finally, he was free to do as he pleased. Liberated in a way that he had never been before. He had grown more than the other Foxes in the years they had been apart because he had still been so juvenile, so bitter and angry at everyone and everything when they were together. Even after he finally let go of all of his emotional baggage he hadn’t warmed up to Neil, had always kept a cool barrier between them, but he was never openly hostile. 

It had been at the Foxes annual Christmas get together that Katelyn told Neil that Aaron was envious of Neil but appreciative. “You make Andrew happy, that’s something that Aaron hasn’t and won’t ever be able to do. In a way, he’s jealous of you, but he knows that you’re good for Andrew. He just wishes things had been different.” 

“Where’s Andrew?” Aaron asked and sat down in the chair in the corner of the room. 

Neil shrugged, “I don’t know. Maybe smoking, maybe getting something to eat, maybe halfway back to Georgia.” 

“They brought Molina in last night,” Aaron said.

Neil made a face, “Please tell me you didn’t prescribe him any antibiotics.” 

“I told them they had the wrong wing, this is trauma, he clearly needed the East wing.” 

“What’s the East wing?” Neil asked. 

Aaron rolled his head to look at him, “Psychiatric.” 

Neil laughed, he was high on pain meds, he couldn't help it. 

Aaron pulled a pen out of his coat pocket and slowly twisted the cap off, not looking at Neil but not ignoring him. “Are you guys going to be okay?” 

He didn’t say, but Neil knew he meant them ‘officially’ coming out. Neil waved him away, “We’ll figure it out.” 

The pager hooked to Aaron’s belt beeped and he looked down at it and sighed. “I’ve got to go. We should be able to discharge you around twelve. I’ll be back before then to check your vitals one last time and sign your release papers.” 

Aaron turned to walk out the door and Neil cleared his throat, “Aaron,” he said, his voice sounded a little unsteady to him and he cleared his throat again. Aaron turned in the door to look at him and Neil forced himself to look him in the eye. “Will I be able to play again?” 

It was a loaded question, one that Neil had been too terrified to ask so far. He knew his leg was in bad shape, broken in more than one place, torn ligaments, a ripped muscle. The surgery had lasted three hours and had resulted in three pins and a fuckton of stitches. Aaron’s eyes softened and he stepped back into the room. Neil took that as a bad sign and felt his heart kick into overdrive. 

“Yes,” Aaron said pushing the word out, “You will be fine, Neil.” 

Neil looked away and nodded, “Okay,” he said still not completely satiated. It must have shown because Aaron sighed and grabbed the folder at the end of Neil’s bed. He pulled out two dark slides and Neil could see that they were X-rays. 

“Look,” he said and leaned against the side of Neil’s bed and held the slides up to the light so that they could see the images. “You had two clean breaks and one fracture. The clean breaks are easy, pins and a cast and you’re good to go. Fractures are messier but still, not so bad. The ligaments could cause you problems if you don’t do as I tell you.” Aaron glanced at Neil and put the X-ray images away. “It sounds and looks worse than it actually is, a lot of athletes come in with similar injuries and recover within months. But you have to do what I tell you or it could heal wrong and end your career. So, what are you going to do?” Aaron prompted.

“Do what you say,” Neil said and Aaron’s belt beeped more insistently. 

“Okay, I have to go, if you need anything call the nurses. Figure out where Andrew is and tell him to get back, I don’t trust you by yourself.” Neil would have said something snarky back, but Aaron was already out the door. 

 

*** 

 

Neil got discharged at noon, just like Aaron said. The process had been simple and quick, a signature here, a signature there, grab the meds and they were walking out the door. Well, Andrew was walking, Neil was being pushed in a wheelchair. Surprisingly, Neil found that he didn’t mind the wheelchair, his cast was heavy and his leg hurt if he stood for too long. Aaron followed them out to Andrew’s car and watched, amused, as Andrew stuffed Neil into the passenger’s seat unceremoniously.

“Fuck, Drew, do you think you could have hit my head any harder on the roof?” Neil asked rubbing the sore spot on his head. 

Andrew gazed at him without sympathy, “Shut up before I break your other leg,” he said and shut the door in Neil’s face. 

Neil watched Andrew and Aaron talk. Although they were identical they looked more different now than they ever had before. Andrew had aged slightly more in the face, just the beginnings of wrinkles starting to form around his eyes, due to smoking and just generally scowling more. He was also more tanned than Aaron, while he spent some of his days outside training, Aaron spent most of his inside under fluorescents. They were built completely different, Neil realized. When he had first met them at Palmetto they had both been on the smaller more lithe side. Aaron still looked that way but Andrew had clearly put on pounds of muscle from training. His shirt clung more to his shoulders and his arms than it used to. And his pants, well, Neil was high, he let himself enjoy the view.  

 The twins stood in stark contrast, Andrew in black, arms folded across his chest, wild hair, and an unruly look to him. Aaron in his white coat and khaki pants, looking professional and presentable with just a hint of steel in his eyes. 

Finally, Andrew kicked the wheelchair at Aaron’s shins and walked around to the driver’s side. Aaron grabbed the wheelchair and Neil could see him shaking his head as he walked back into the hospital. Andrew plopped into his seat and revved the engine in an obnoxious way. 

Neil watched him through his eyelashes. 

“What?” Andrew asked not taking his eyes off the road.

“Nothing,” Neil said and yawned, “Just thinking.” 

Andrew stayed silent for so long that Neil almost drifted to sleep watching the afternoon light dance across his face as they drove through traffic. His fair eyelashes fluttered when he glanced over at Neil. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

Neil grinned a little, “That I really like those pants on you.” 

Andrew kept his eyes on the road as they came to a red light and then he turned to Neil with serious eyes, “I meant what I said about breaking your other leg.” 

 

***

 

Neil’s apartment was a one bedroom, one bath in downtown Boston. On the sixth floor, with no elevator. Neil was propped against Andrew’s side at the bottom of the stairwell a paper bag of medicine gripped in his hand. 

“This is going to be a shit show,” he said and Andrew tugged him up the first step. 

It took them almost half an hour to make it up the stairs, with Neil having to stop every few steps to take a breath it was a miracle they made it at all. Andrew let go of Neil long enough to pull out his keys and get the door open and then pulled Neil inside. 

Coming inside was like a sigh of relief. Miss Tulane, Neil’s old, half-blind neighbor always took care of the cats if Neil was out of town and he was relieved to see a note on the refrigerator in her handwriting. 

‘I was watching your game last night and saw what happened. Tried to call got no answer. Broke in to feed the felines. Give me a call when you get back. 

-Sweet Tea’

On cue King and Sir hopped up on the counter and started yowling, clearly miffed about being forgotten. They caught sight of Andrew though and quickly hopped down to rub against his feet and meow at him. Andrew never paid them any attention (so he said) but they never seemed to mind and were always happy to see him. 

Neil’s apartment wasn’t much, but he liked it. The living room had built in shelves which Andrew had half filled with books and Neil had half filled with exy DVDs. The walls had horrendous green striped wallpaper that Neil had tried and half succeeded to cover with photos. In front of the TV sat an orange velvet sofa that Neil had found at a Goodwill, the cats had scratched the hell out of the sides but other than that Neil didn’t think it looked too bad. A black leather recliner was tucked in the corner and a reading light hung over the back. A scratching post was leaned haphazardly against the wall and an array of cat toys littered the floor. He had two windows, one in the kitchen, above the sink and one next to the front door that looked out on the stairwell. The window above the sink had small succulents sitting on the window sill. There was a set of french doors beside the refrigerator that led out onto a claustrophobic balcony cluttered with a few big plants and a little metal table and two chairs. Off the living room was a small hallway that branch off to the bathroom and ended with Neil’s bedroom. 

It was small and sometimes the faucets leaked and the gas stove acted up but Neil kept the place relatively clean and tidy and he enjoyed having his own space. He liked having Andrew here with him too. 

Neil threw himself on the couch and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He had an ungodly number of texts and calls, he threw the phone on the coffee table for later. He leaned over and grabbed the remote and turned the TV on. ESPN was already pulled up and a segment was running that Neil didn’t want to watch. 

“We have footage from the manager of the Boston Colts, Josh White, with a statement about the situation between Andrew Minyard and Neil Josten.” A sportscaster in a dark suit said. 

Neil sat up quickly as Josh’s bald head showed up on the screen, “It’s not any of my damn business what Neil does in his spare time, he is a fine exy player and quite frankly so is his husband. What they do or don’t do is none of anybody’s damn business. As for that asshole Molina, he got what he deserved. I always thought he looked more like a hockey player myself.”

Neil had always liked Josh, now he liked him just a little bit more. Neil knew he was going to have to deal with the fallout from this eventually but he couldn’t bring himself to think about it right now.

Neil rubbed his eyes. He felt disgusting, he hadn’t gotten to bathe since before the game. He could feel the grime on his eyelids and under his nails. The couch dipped under Andrew’s weight as he settled next to Neil. 

“You need a bath,” Andrew said like he could read Neil’s mind. 

“Yeah,” Neil said and Andrew got up and went into the kitchen. The sound of drawers and cabinets opening and closing reached Neil’s ears, and then the sound of Andrew’s footsteps coming back. Then the sound of Andrew tripping over one of the cats. Then the sound of Andrew cursing and a cat hissing. 

“Come on,” Andrew said and Neil heard him go into the bathroom. Neil painstakingly got to his feet and managed to hobble into the bathroom. Andrew pulled Neil in and shut the door before the cats could get in. 

He shook his head, grabbed the hem of Neil’s sweatshirt and began to pull it over his head, “I don’t know why you keep them.” 

Neil lifted his arms up and let Andrew pull the sweatshirt and then his shirt off, his wedding ring nearly getting pulled off with it, “I’m sure they think the same about you.” 

Andrew untied Neil’s sweatpants and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear and pulled them down, having to get down on one knee to pull them from off of Neil’s casted foot. Neil shivered in the cool bathroom as Andrew grabbed a trash bag and pulled it over Neil’s leg, it was just long enough that it covered the top of the cast. Neil reached over Andrew’s head and grabbed the duct tape and scissors sitting on the counter and began to cut pieces and hand them to Andrew. When the cast was completely covered and sealed Andrew checked once more that there were no holes or opening and when he was satisfied, turned to the shower and flipped it on. The water heater groaned like it always did and Andrew stuck his hand under the spray and, when satisfied with the temperature, held out his other hand to Neil. Neil took it and Andrew held him steady as he slung his good leg into the tub and then dragged his cast in. 

“Thank you,” Neil said and Andrew let go of his hand and pulled the shower curtain closed. Neil tilted his head back under the warm spray of water and thought he had never felt anything so good. His eyes opened when the shower curtain pulled back and Andrew stepped into the shower with him. 

Neil smiled at him and wiped the water from his eyes, “I thought you weren’t coming in.” 

Andrew shrugged and turned Neil away from him, he reached around him and grabbed the shampoo and then squirted it directly onto Neil’s head. “Hey!” Neil protested and then shut his mouth when Andrew worked his fingers into his scalp. 

It reminded him of a day years ago in a dorm bathroom, when the scars on his face and hands had still been wounds. Neil smiled at the memory and shuddered a little under Andrew’s hands. When all the soap had been rinsed from Neil’s hair, Andrew swapped places with him and washed his own. 

Neil stood out of the spray and watched the water and soap run down Andrew’s body. Miles and miles of skin and muscle and sinew and bone. A simple ring hung around his neck. Andrew grabbed the bar of soap and a washcloth and scrubbed Neil’s body none too gently, and then washed himself. Finally, he reached to turn the water off and Neil cleared his throat.   

“You know,” he said, “The last time I had garbage bags taped to my body in a shower we had more fun than this.” 

Andrew stopped his hand and turned to face Neil. He stepped in close enough that the skin of their stomachs was brushing and Neil shivered. 

“I don’t think I remember that,” Andrew said grabbing Neil’s waist in his hands. Andrew remembered everything. 

Neil smiled and teetered, a little off balance, “I could show you. Try to refresh your memory.” 

Andrew took another step closer and they were flush from their shoulders to their hips. “Okay.” 

Neil smiled against his mouth and pulled him in for a kiss. Then pulled away, “Does it bother you?” 

“What?” Andrew asked.

“That everyone knows we’re married now?” 

Andrew didn’t answer right away but didn’t move away either, “I don’t care that they know we’re married, I care that they think we owe them an explanation.” 

Neil nodded and started to kiss Andrew again, he kissed his chin and then leisurely kissed his way over to his ear.

“You really are my VIP you know.” 

Andrew blanched a little, “What?” 

“When we were in the ambulance you told that guy you were my VIP,” Neil said, “You are. My ‘Very Important Person’.” 

Andrew stared at him and shook his head and then kissed him. His tongue brushed Neil’s and then he pulled back and dragged his hot mouth down Neil’s stomach as he dropped to his knees. “Shut the fuck up,” he said against Neil’s skin. Then Andrew kissed him where it mattered, and Neil did.   

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
